Flashback

The artist Gillian Ayres remembers drinking days in Camberwell in 1948

Artist Gillian Ayres recalls drinking in Camberwell

THIS PHOTO WAS TAKEN in the Walmer Castle pub, a stumble away from Camberwell School of Art where I was a student at this time. I say stumble, as each visit wasn’t complete without a pint of Guinness or two. They would often host student exhibitions and the works hung on the walls are those of my peers. It’s a hazy memory for me now, but I must’ve loved this photo at the time – it’s one of the only ones I still have from my student days.

It was 1948 and, as one might expect, there was little faith in women artists. The only other women in this shot – the two stood to the right of the image – were actually life models. We’d spend three days a week sketching them. Neither my parents nor my school had wanted me to pursue art, and when I arrived at Camberwell, a female member of staff advised me to pursue embroidery over painting. ‘A woman will never get a job teaching painting,’ she said. Her words stayed with me for decades. I often wonder what she would make of me now.

The young men sitting around me – fellow students – were ex-servicemen. While I’d been at St. Paul’s Girls School, they had been pitching camps in jungles and trekking across deserts. As one of the youngest students, I felt very grown-up in their company. Not only did they share their stories of rugged bravery but they’d also share their cigarettes, much to my parents’ dismay.

I shared one too many cigarettes with Henry Mundy, the man to my left, and we fell madly in love. This picture was taken at the start of our relationship. Within three years we were married and working together as gallery assistants at the Institute of Associated Artists. We went on to have two beautiful sons, Jim and Sam, and although we separated in 1976, we still live together today.

London then was dark and smoggy, the air was thick, there were housing shortages, and rubble continued to line the streets for years. Anyone who served in the war received a grant, which meant the school had about three times more students than usual. Given the dilapidated state of

While I’d been at St. Paul’s Girls School, they had been pitching camps in jungles and trekking across deserts

the city and the atrocities still fresh in the minds of the students, you might expect the works hung on the walls to be apocalyptic. In fact, many of us took to abstraction, firmly believing that a more harmonious world could be rebuilt in our image.

Perhaps this optimism was only to be found in the London bubble in which we lived. Culture from all over the world saturated our every spare minute. on my first day at Camberwell, I remember Humphrey Ly ttelton star ting a band that played American music. French and Italian films, plays such as Desire Caught by The Tail by Picasso, and touring exhibitions from Munich of all places ( Masterpieces from the Alte Pinokothek) were lighting up the city. There was a real joie de vivre. Britain had been culturally cut off during the war but suddenly we were reconnected. It was bliss. — Interview by Robbie Hodges. Gillian Ayres: Paintings & Woodcuts, Alan Cristea Gallery, London (alancristea .com), until 22 April. Gillian Ayres by Martin Gayford (£45, Art/books)